You never really have friends quite like your cousins. They are people you often spend very little time with and yet are closer to then many of your best friends despite the distance.
When I was a kid most of my extended family lived in Lisbon, while I lived all the way across the country in Washington State. Every year or two we’d come up to visit our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.
Extended family is kind of a bizarre thing to experience. There are these people you know who share the same relatives as you, but you don’t live with them, you don’t always grow up with them and yet there is a kinship between you that exists in a meaningful way.
My cousins are some of my favorite people in the world and they were even when I barely knew them. I’m not really sure how you explain that sort of thing, but it’s true.
In Washington I lived in the valley on the outskirts of Spokane. It was a much more urban setting and quite different from the farms we visited in the summer trips to New York. When we came I often felt out of place as my cousins introduced me to tractors and livestock and we’d play hide and seek in fields outside at night among the fireflies at my grandparents house. Flashlight tag hits different in places without street lights after all.
Until I moved here when I was nearing 12 years old I’d only spent a few days of my life with many of them and yet that didn’t matter much at all as we still formed strong bonds. It was always special to see where I came from and those who came from the same place. It’s something that stays with you forever.
Once my family moved back to New York, I spent time with some of them more and others less, but I’d always happy to see them at family gatherings or surprise encounters.
Some of my cousins I was fortunate enough to live next door to, those ones were more like siblings, if truth be told. Working on the farm together is another entirely unique experience of its own.
As years went by we all got older. Some moved away, some came back, some were born, some had kids. In time, our grandparents died.
Grandparents are that special shared host with whom everyone has a bond and their lives are often the glue that keeps the larger family together. When they pass, gatherings tend to be less frequent.
And while it’s never been easier to keep track of each other’s successes and struggles via electronic communication, it’s not the same as sharing a meal, a beer or a story by the fireside.
Sadly, such gatherings later in our lives tend to coincide with funerals and on some occasions weddings.
It becomes our job as the next generation to make sure we do our part to keep those gatherings from disappearing all together.
This summer was a special one for me. I had family from both sides drop in to visit from Alabama, Texas, Colorado, Plattsburgh, Rochester, Glenville, Buffalo and other areas I’m sure I’m forgetting during the same week.
With a kid on the way and an exceedingly hot summer we spent a week trying to spend as much time with our visiting family as we could. We did our best to see everyone despite the toll it took on the little guys and ourselves because to me, that stuff matters.
It had been a long time since I’d seen some of them. In some cases close to a decade. And it was the first time my children were able to meet some of their cousins as well. I suspect they were already forming those special bonds that I spoke of earlier and I suspect they’ll be excited to see them again, whenever that may be.
I wonder if this time my kids will be the ones introducing their cousins to fireflies and fields. I can only hope they enjoy it as much as I did.
Jimmy Lawton is the News Editor of North Country This Week and NorthCoutnryNow.com